


Why.

by shawnslittlepeach



Series: SM3 [3]
Category: Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 11:16:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18445439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shawnslittlepeach/pseuds/shawnslittlepeach
Summary: //Track 8// Soft shy Shawn afraid of his feelings? Check.





	Why.

You had no idea  Shawn was going to be at the party, but when you saw him sulking in the corner, nursing a drink you really wished you’d been warned. The last time you spoke, wasn’t the most pleasant of conversations, some harsh words were exchanged and as angry as you were with him, you still felt bad. But you didn’t think he’d still be mad. It’d been over a week, and he clearly wasn’t over it.

Most of the night was spent, looking at one another from across the room, Shawn with those lost puppy eyes he knew worked every time. You braced yourself every time he walked your way, just to have him go into the kitchen for a refill. By the third one, you knew it was just to get your attention, to make sure you knew he was there.

As if you could miss him. He always forgot just how massive he was, but his schoolyard antics worked and you broke.

He said something quickly to one of your friends, before heading out towards the small balcony of the apartment, and you followed.

It was a nice night out, and the view of the city was incredible. Every light illuminating the scowl on Shawn’s face.

“Were you going to come and talk to me, or were you just going to stare all night?” you smile, leaning against the rail next to him.

He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you and rolls his eyes.

“Will you stop.” you scoffed, giving throwing attitude right back at him.

“I’m not doing anything.”

He really was acting like a petulant teenager. Throwing a fit because he didn’t get what he wanted. Not that you even knew what he wanted.

“You keep saying that I don’t mean anything that what we’re doing is no big deal. But the moment we are in a room together you brood, and sit there looking at me like -”

“Like what?” he challenges, eyes cast down fidgeting with his ring.

You weren’t going to say it, you weren’t sure if you could ever tell him what you saw in his eyes when he looked at you. Or if you’d ever admit how it’d make you feel when he did.

There was always a bit of grey area when it came to you and Shawn. But neither one of you possesses the self-control, to stay within the boundaries of friendship.

“Tell me what this is. If it’s nothing fine. If it is, fine. If you want to be with a different girl every night, fine. But -”

“I don’t want that -”  he sighed turning to face you.

_Finally, he’s looking at you! Progress._

“I need to know what we’re doing. I can’t keep waiting for you.”

“I’m not asking to.” He mumbled, biting his lip.

“Then tell me what you want? Whatever your answer is, I’ll be fine.” You say stepping closer.

It was a lie. Every date you’d go on you couldn’t help but compare them to Shawn. How they weren’t as handsome, or charming or kind. But, unless one of you did something you’d forever be going around in circles.

“I can’t,” he said, through gritted teeth, like it actually hurt him to give you a straight answer.

“Why?”

“Because I - ’m scared.” His voice is so weak and pitiful, you almost want to feel bad for him. But you also want answers and he was not going to pout his way out of it this time. He needed to grow up, and handle it.

“Of what?”

“Hurting you? Of fucking up? I don’t know.” He turns away from you, looking back at the skyline.

_This shit again._

“Bullshit.” he turns to you eyebrows knitted together. “I know how you feel about me. You care, just like I do. If you didn’t then we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

It was a cop-out. It’s the same thing he’d told you last week. You knew the answer, you both did. But what you couldn’t understand is why neither of you could admit it and put an end to the mess you two have made for yourselves.

“Of course I care,” he says, voice firm.

“Then why are we doing this. Aren’t you sick of it.”

He’s quiet for a moment, but you think you see him give you a small nod.

“You say you’re scared, but guess what? So am I. But that shouldn’t stop us from at least trying.”

You had to try, doing something, even if it would end with the two of you hateing each other was better than this.

“And if I hurt you?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I know you wouldn’t. Not on purpose.”

He pulls himself towards you, dangerously close and tucks your hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek.

“Your right.”

“I know I am. I’m always right,” you smirk.

And finally, he gives you what you’d been wanting all night. A smile. A real Shawn, perfect smile.

“Yeah, you are.”


End file.
